


dying lol

by itsmylifekay



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Buck is a Disaster, Crack Treated Seriously, Getting Together, M/M, Team as Family, but we love him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:07:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21819421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsmylifekay/pseuds/itsmylifekay
Summary: Based on the meme: i'm dying lolBuck is...Buck. And that means chaos, angst, laughs, and pining over Eddie. Bobby just wants his son to stop ending up in the hospital. Enjoy.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Comments: 44
Kudos: 1011





	dying lol

**Author's Note:**

> There's some mention of blood and vomit at the start.
> 
> Thanks to Sibbed on the discord for Spanish help.
> 
> I wrote this instead of editing something else and I regret nothing.

Buck: Can someone come over?

Eddie: Me and Chris can swing by after I pick him up from school. What’s up?

Buck: I’m dying lol

Chim: The millennial mood

Hen: That bored on your day off?

Buck: No, I’m actually dying. The lol was just so you wouldn’t freak out

Chim: ?????

Buck: _image_

**_Multiple people are typing_ **

Hen: Oh my god Buck

Chim: On my way over now

**_Incoming call: Eddie Diaz_ **

Buck looks down at his phone and groans. Why does his life always have to be so crazy? There’s blood oozing out from between his fingers, staining his shirt, the tile, his screen is already smeared with it. Everything feels a little swimmy, a little off-kilter, and just the thought of Eddie yelling in his ear is enough to make him queasy. He hits accept anyway, the comfort he always seems to get from the other man’s presence outweighing the potential spike in his headache.

“Yeah?”

He sounds a little drunk and figures that’s not a great start, _knows_ it isn’t when Eddie curses under his breath.

“Where are you?”

Buck sighs, head thunking back against the cabinets. He puts the phone on speaker and lays it on the ground, is pretty sure he should be using both hands to put pressure on the wound but there’s a lot of blood and not a lot of purchase and he keeps slipping. Blood runs into one eye and he squints, tires to rub it away.

“I’m at home.”

“Yeah, but _where_? I couldn’t tell from the picture.”

“Kitchen,” Buck says. There’s a bloody dishtowel on the floor next to him and he blinks at it, confused, before he realizes it’s supposed to be wrapped around his arm. He fumbles with it for a moment, grunting slightly as he grabs one end with his mouth to cinch it.

“-ck! Buck!”

“Shhh, Eddie. Too loud.” He flops back against the cabinets then glances up at the counter, wonders if he should try and get another towel. It would help with the blood dripping down his face. But the very idea of moving has him shutting and eyes and breathing through his nose as a sudden wave of nausea crashes over him.

_God,_ why did he feel so sick?

“Buck, I need you to keep talking to me, okay? Can you tell me what happened?”

Even in the state he’s in, Buck can tell Eddie is tense, is panicked and trying not to show it. Which, not okay. Buck never wants Eddie to be scared.

“It’s okay, Eds,” he murmurs. “It’ll be okay.”

He must black out for a little after that because next thing he knows there’s someone banging really hard on his door, then the telltale snap-crack of a broken door. Paramedics kneel beside him and that doesn’t make any sense at all, because he didn’t call 911. He pushes at their reaching hands and shakes his head.

“Where’s Chim?”

“Who’s Chim?” One of them asks. “Are they here too? Are they hurt?”

Buck shakes his head again. He hopes not, at least. _Is_ Chim hurt? Is that why he isn’t here?

“Chim is a paramedic for the 118. This is Evan Buckley, a firefighter from the same house.” Eddie’s voice is calm, sounds a bit more in control. “How’s he looking?”

The paramedics try reaching for Buck again, but he doesn’t like it, doesn’t know who they are and isn’t sure why the idea of their hands on him makes him itch. He wants _Chim._

“I know you do, Buck, but you’ve got to let the paramedics do their job.”

That’s Eddie again and Buck lets out a whine. His head is throbbing and his mouth feels like sticky sandpaper, tastes a little like bile too. Maybe he can just pass out again and make this process easier for everyone.

He’s about to do just that, eyes fluttering shut and breaths coming shorter as he stops fighting the dizziness threatening to pull him under, when he feels someone else kneel down at his side.

“Wake up, Buck. C’mon.”

Familiar hands grab his face and shake it a little and Buck’s mouth curls into a smile, even though his eyes still don’t quite want to open.

“How long has he been like this?”

“He passed out right before you got here. Assuming you’re Chim?”

“Yeah, I—Eddie?”

Buck laughs a little as the voices swirl around him, then immediately groans when the action makes his stomach hurt and his head swim and he doubles over and vomits on the ground. There’s a fun mix of clear bile and dark blood at his side.

“That can’t be good,” he mumbles, vaguely registers Chim saying something and hands tugging at him before he blacks out again.

\--

He wakes up in a hospital bed and decides he really needs to stop making a habit of this. For now he’s alone, which either means he hasn’t been here long enough for Maddie to arrive, or he’s been here so long that she’s gone for food or a shower. His head hurts too much for him to want to try any mental math or deduction as to which of those scenarios is the most likely, and he settles for leaning back into the pillows and thin blankets instead.

A few minutes later, he hears someone pause in the doorway, followed by a heavy sigh and then someone sitting down in the chair just beside his head.

“You’re giving me grey hairs, kid.”

Buck smiles and rolls his head towards Bobby’s voice. “Not my fault you’re getting old.” He cracks open his eyes and Bobby is staring back at him, mouth pressed into a thin line they way it is when he’s trying not to smile.

Buck takes another glance around the room then looks back at Bobby, tries to keep his eyes real wide and innocent. “So, what happened?”

“You tell me,” Bobby says, settling back into his chair and crossing his arms. “You’re the one who messaged the group chat instead of calling an ambulance.”

He vaguely remembers making that decision, but he also remembers unfamiliar paramedics huddled on his kitchen floor.

“But there _was_ an ambulance…?”

“I called 911 as soon as I saw that picture. Buck, what in the world were you thinking? What if we’d all been busy? What if we hadn’t looked at our phones?”

“But you did,” Buck says. “And I knew Chim and Eddie were off shift.”

Bobby sighs and shakes his head. “You got lucky this time. Next time might be different.”

Buck looks away and bites his lip. He knows it wasn’t his smartest move, but… he _really_ hadn’t wanted to call 911. It hadn’t felt like such a big deal. Besides, what was the point of being friends with first responders if you still had to call for help the old-fashioned way?

He trusted Hen and Chim. And, whatever had been going on in his head at the time, he’d only wanted one of them to touch him.

Bobby must see something on his face because he reaches out and puts a hand on Buck’s shoulder. “I’m not mad. I just want you to be safe. And I’m glad you reached out to us for help, even if in this instance it wasn’t necessarily the best _first_ course of action.”

Buck clings to that reassurance as Bobby helps him sit up in bed, gets him settled just in time for Chim to walk in and fix Buck with a stink eye so severe Athena would be proud.

“You know the whole hospital thing isn’t _really_ a competition, right? If this is your way of beating me and Chris for the title, I’m going to help Maddie lock you in a bubble.”

Buck stammers while Bobby laughs quietly at his side.

“But I’m glad you’re okay, Buckaroo. Even if you probably took ten years off my life.”

“Consider it payback for the rebar,” Buck says, starting to feel a bit more like his normal self and less like he got scraped off his kitchen floor. “I’m pretty sure you took close to twenty off mine with that alone.”

“Oh, no way,” Chim shakes his head. “Ladder truck was _at least_ twenty. Tsunami was another ten. Honestly it’s a miracle I’m even still alive.”

Buck is grinning and happy when the nurse walks in, but the smile slips from his face as she gives him the full rundown of what happened.

Apparently, he had wounds on his head and arm that caused a fair amount of blood loss thanks to the blood thinners. He’d been dehydrated, likely exhausted from a twenty-four hour shift the previous day, and stressed when the paramedics showed up unexpected. The combination had been just enough to leave him feeling sick and confused and while his situation wasn’t life threatening, he was lucky not to have woken up on the floor hours later in a puddle of his own blood and vomit.

Buck sighs at the information and sheepishly scratches the back of his neck, throwing Bobby and Chim a disarming smile before shrugging his shoulders.

“Sorry? I really didn’t think I was that bad off when I left for my run this morning.”

Chim shakes his head at him, gum clicking in his mouth, and Bobby just looks tired.

“Do you remember how you hurt yourself? Did you fall or something?”

At that, Buck at least has a defense.

“No, some douche on a scooter pushed me. I think I hit my head on a mailbox or something. Not sure what happened with my arm. Maybe there was something on the ground when I caught myself?”

“So you… What?” Chim asks. “Walked back home with blood streaming down your face?”

Buck shrugs. “What else was I supposed to do?”

Bobby sighs, Chim makes a face, and Buck throws up his hands.

“I didn’t feel that bad at the time! I thought it was just a scrape and that I could handle it.”

He doesn’t get to continue pleading his case because he hears the clicking and clacking of crutches in the hall, followed by a little shout of “Buck!” and about six-feet of over-concerned Diaz looming in the doorway.

Christopher is quick to come to his side and start asking if he’s okay, needing only a little convincing before he gives Buck a pat on the leg and tells him he’s glad he’s feeling better. Eddie, however, hasn’t moved from the door.

Bobby glances between them then lifts an eyebrow at Chim, giving a very unsubtle nod of his head before offering to take Christopher to the food court to pick out a snack for everyone to share. There’s a flurry of activity, Buck shooting a betrayed look in Bobby’s direction, and then it’s just Buck and Eddie and a whole lot of awkward silence.

Buck fiddles with his blanket, looks just about everywhere but Eddie, and tries to figure out if he’s supposed to apologize or explain himself or just let Eddie yell or scold him or… whatever it is he needs to do. When enough time passes without any break in the tension between them, Buck sighs.

“I’m sorry for scaring you and Chris. I should’ve thought before putting something like that in the group chat.”

He hears Eddie suck in a breath and the next moment they’re only inches apart, Eddie putting one hand on Buck’s shoulder and pushing him back just enough to meet his eyes.

“Is that what you think this is? That I’m upset you asked us for help?”

Buck blinks at him, knows ‘yes’ isn’t the right answer but isn’t sure what else he has to offer in its place.

“Buck, I will _never_ be mad at you for asking for help. I’m upset becauseI had no way of helping you and until Chim got there, no way of knowing if you were okay. I was _terrified_.”

Buck swallows. “Sorry?”

“Stop apologizing, idiota. Cómo me enamoréde un desastre tan hermoso y atolondrado?” He mutters that last bit under his breath, then gives Buck’s shoulder another squeeze. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

Buck just gapes at him, isn’t sure how much of that Spanish he got correct and how much of it is wishful thinking. But if the look on Eddie’s face is anything to go by, so incredibly fond despite the worry and exasperation, he figures he might as well test the waters.

He looks up at Eddie through his lashes and gives him a teasing smile. “The good kind of crazy?”

It’s hopeful and a little shy, but god what Buck would’ve give for something to _happen_ besides this little dance between them. Preferably something involving Eddie’s mouth on him, or just Eddie on him in general. He’ll take what he can get. 

Eddie just shakes his head and looks up at the ceiling, mutters something else in Spanish that Buck can’t quite catch before leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of Buck’s mouth.

“Just don’t do that again, okay?”

Buck’s eyes flutter and his tongue peeks out to wet his bottom lip. “I don’t know,” he says. “Maybe I should do it more often if this is what it gets me.”

Eddie hums, kisses Buck’s cheek, his temple. “If you weren’t in the hospital, I’d kiss you properly,” he murmurs, voice sending a shiver down Buck’s spine. “So, if I were you…” He presses a kiss to the shell of Buck’s ear. “I’d stop…” Just beneath his jaw. “Getting into trouble.”

Buck lets out a whine. “Eddie. C’mon, I’ll be out of here in like, an hour.”

“Then you’ll wait an hour.” Eddie presses one last kiss to his forehead then pulls away, cups Buck’s cheek in one hand and brushes his thumb over his bottom lip like that’s going to help de-escalate the situation. “We’ve waited this long, haven’t we? What’s a little more?”

Buck groans and flops back onto the bed, sends Eddie a glare over his shoulder. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“No,” Buck sighs. “I don’t.”

But that doesn’t mean Eddie needs to look so damn smug about it.

Thankfully, he soon has Chris and Chim and Bobby to distract him, and a whole phone full of messages and missed calls. He calls Maddie himself, adds on to Chim’s reassurances that he’s fine and going home within the hour, then he opens the group chat and bites his lip, looks up at the people around him before snapping a quick selfie in the terrible hospital light.

Buck: _image_

Buck: So, guess I’m not dying after all

Phones ping and Chim lifts an eyebrow at him immediately. “Really, Buck?”

Buck shrugs.

Hen: Damn right you’re not

Bobby: Just a reminder that this group chat is for social purposes. In the case of an emergency, please call 911

Buck: I’ll remember that next time

Hen: There shouldn’t be a next time

Chim: It’s Buck, there’s definitely going to be a next time

Buck: Aww, you guys love me

Hen: I will fight you

Chim: Ew

Eddie: Yeah, we really do

Buck glances up at Eddie, feels himself blush at the way Eddie’s already looking back at him, eyes so soft Buck can hardly bear it.

Buck: 😘

Eddie:😏

Hen: What just happened?

Chim: _image_

Chim: It’s happening in real life too

**_Multiple people are typing._ **

Yeah, his life can be a little crazy. But honestly?

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> Spanish:
> 
> Cómo me enamoréde un desastre tan hermoso y atolondrado? = How did I fall for such a reckless, beautiful disaster?


End file.
